Crossing Dimensions
by berryfuls
Summary: Set after the S2 finale, Peter finally figures out the truth. Will he ever be able to get his Olivia back? Or is she lost forever to a life that isn't hers? Slightly P/O.


**Disclaimer: Fringe is NOT mine. If I did, it would go from an awesome show to an extremely sucky one.**

**This took me FOREVER to write because I had no idea how I wanted this to start. This is the first chapter and I think there will be three chapters in all, if I can somehow get it all to fit into three chapters. I have high hopes for this little piece.**

**Rated just to be on the safe side. I don't know how the end is going to go...**

**Well, as always, enjoy! :)**

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The clock on the wall seemed to stop in place. Each little tick seemed farther and farther from the last. Maybe it's the same theory that a watched pot never boils? A watched clock never moves? Maybe. He didn't know.

He sat there, staring at the clock, feeling his IQ dropping. But he had nothing better to do. He had chased all his leads, fought all his fights, did all he could. There was just something _off _about her and he can't quite put his finger on it. Was it her new attitude on life? She had always been the pessimist. As she saw the negative side, he somehow began to see the positive. They made a perfect pair. Opposites attract. But when she came back from the other side, she was such an optimist that just being in the same room with her made him hopeful. Hopeful for what? That she would become the same person she had been before?

Was it simply that that old haunted nature about her was gone? She had finally accomplished something; she should be happy. He was glad that she was happy. But somehow, it didn't feel right. Her happiness had a weird onset, the kind that crazies and addicts have. It made no sense. He had seen her completely relaxed before and that wasn't it.

He remembered their talk on the way to William Bell and Walter at the opera house over there. It wasn't about them confessing how they've loved each other for months and didn't know, or anything like that. Things like that were for drama shows and their lives were far from a drama show. Their lives? Do they lead separate lives or is it a single life shared? And why had he resorted to remembering quotes from shows he only watched when there's nothing else on? The conversation had been simple – where would they go from here?

He took another swig from the glass in his hands, not even remembering what form of alcohol he had put in it. The hotel room around him reminded him of earlier times, to almost two years ago when he thought the "father" of this side was his real father and when she was still… herself. When every basis that kept him grounded hadn't fallen to pieces at his feet and he was still somewhat sane.

The clock on the wall had moved its minute hand six times when his phone rang. He slid open his little cell phone without bothering to check the caller ID. No one he didn't trust had his number and Walter could never remember the sequence. He wasn't sure if he wanted Walter in the "didn't trust" category quite yet.

"Hello?" The word came out as more of a growl than a proper greeting. He winced at the sound of his voice, having not used it in so long. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't even remember the last time he had spoken.

The person on the other end chuckled lightly. "Hello, Peter. It's been so long since we've talked."

He stopped short and blinked a couple times. "Rachel?"

She giggled and he relaxed in the familiar sound. While he fell for the other Dunham sister, Rachel had been one of his constants. She was a good friend, even though he knew she wanted so, so much more. "Yes, it's me. Hey, I really need to talk to you. Meet us for lunch at the diner where we had that date one time?"

The idea of lunch with her was very tempting and it wasn't like it was a real date. Olivia would understand. "Of course." He paused. "Wait, us?"

"Yeah, me and Ella. It's really her who needs to tell you something. She noticed it before I did. See you in teen minutes?" Her tone took on a desperate hopefulness. He couldn't understand why she couldn't just put Ella on the phone and let her talk to him, but obliged anyway.

"I'll see you there."

She let out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Peter. And, just, don't tell Olivia, okay? I know it's just lunch but you know how jealous she can get." He had to hold back a chuckle as he remembered the conversation in which Olivia practically told how much she liked him. Just like a high-school crush, no less. She didn't get out much.

They said their goodbyes and hung up, leaving Peter collecting his coat and wallet. The diner was ten minutes walking from his hotel, but he could leave a little early. The long elevator ride would kill at least three minutes –a lot of kids liked to take it up and down the building. However, today's ride from the top floor to the ground was unusually kid-free. The universe just loved torturing him, didn't it?

Unfortunately while he had been staring at that clock, a light rain had started up. How had he not heard it? He didn't even have an umbrella in his room. Looks like he would get soaked on the walk over.

He pushed out into the rain, enjoying the cool drops on his face and arms. He didn't bother putting his coat on. It wasn't cold out – it was really quite warm. Peter couldn't really figure out why he got the coat in the first place. Force of habit? Probably.

He knew the fastest and easiest way to get to the diner from here, but there was a part of him that wanted to go the other way, the long way. So he did.

It wasn't a conscious decision – he just turned right instead of left in front of the hotel. It was basically the opposite of the other direction, only he had to walk another block to get there.

He opened the door to the fifties-styled diner and chose a table out of earshot of the other people there. It ended up being the table that he and Walter had sat at so long ago, before all the other-universe-traveling and whatnot. He didn't mind the five minutes while he waited for Rachel and Ella to show up, because the two old men at the counter were having a very interesting conversation on the value of their cats.

However, the other two Dunhams arrived just when Bill and Ernie were starting to argue over whether white paws were good or not. He waved them over and Ella ran straight into his arms. "Peter!" she squealed with all of her usual energy and spunk. But he could tell there was something off about the nine-year-old, a burden.

"Hello, Ella! How have you been?" She grinned and replied that she was okay before climbing into the booth beside him. Rachel smiled absentmindedly as she slid in across from them.

The waitress that had been eying Peter for the past five minutes seemed to deflate in her walk over to the table. "Hello, my name is Delilah. What can I get for you?"

Rachel replied with a soft-spoken "Sweet iced tea."

"Root-beer, please," Peter said with a reminiscent smile. Hadn't Walter gotten the same thing when they had come here?

Ella gave the waitress a charmingly shy smile and mumbled, "Can I have orange juice?"

Delilah nodded, wrote down the order, and walked away without another word. So they didn't have the best service, but it was a good place to talk without being too overheard. Peter turned his attention to Rachel and asked, "So, what brings us here?"

Rachel looked up at him with wide eyes and glanced to Ella. "Sweetie, tell Peter what you told me the other day. About Aunt Liv?" Ella's spirited nature seemed to visibly turn dark and she reached out to hug his arm.

"You know how Aunt Liv used to make me pancakes?" He nodded. "You know how she's been weird the last couple weeks?" Again, he nodded. Of course he had noticed the differences. He didn't miss Rachel's little smirk that she quickly dropped. "Well… I asked her to make me pancakes because she hasn't in forever… and she made them all wrong." Ella buried her face in his arm and he put the other one around her in an awkward but comforting hug. "One was burnt and the other had raspberries on it." When Peter didn't reply, she explained. "I _hate_ raspberries. And Aunt Liv knows that!"

"Maybe she forgot. She can be a little forgetful," Peter told her reasonably.

Rachel piped up, still using the same quiet voice. "No. She wouldn't have forgotten something like that. The last time she made Ella pancakes before the whole red-hair mission thing, she said these exact words: Pancakes and strawberries and no raspberries!"

All three of them got very, very quiet. Peter knew that there was something wrong with Olivia; he just wished he had just been paranoid. But no. Even Rachel and Ella had noticed and they didn't know the truth about what had really happened on that mission.

Delilah came back with their drinks and took their orders for lunch. No one was that hungry anymore, though. He could understand why they were both so different now. It was almost like Olivia was a whole new person.

And that was when he knew. He felt stupid for not realizing it before because it was so obvious. Hadn't he told the alternate-Olivia the exact differences between them? Why didn't he see them now? Had his passion for her really made him that blind?

Rachel seemed to notice Peter's realization and furrowed her brow questioningly. He shook his head the slightest bit. It was classified. He had Ella let him out of the booth and he stepped outside where the rain had just about stopped to make a phone call.

The person on the other line answered on the second ring. "Hello? How did you get this number?"

"It's me, Peter." He hoped with every molecule in his body that she was really one of the good guys in the minefield of bad ones.

"Ah, Peter. It's been so long since we've talked." He could hear her relaxing into her huge office chair, the ever-present half smile on her face evident in her voice. "So what requires my assistance today? Another case perhaps?"

He chose his words carefully. "Not necessarily. How would you know if someone who went to the other side and came back was really the same person? And not the person from the other side?"

"I don't think I understand."

"Nina," he said in a hushed voice, leaning against the brick wall behind him. "I think the Olivia we brought back is the one from the other universe." She gasped, a sharp –no pun intended- intake of breath that was somehow still catlike. Everything she did was catlike. "Is there anyway I could get back over to save her?"

He could practically hear her smirk. "So I was right. You and Agent Dunham care for each other. But let me tell you something, Peter, as a friend. These feelings rise up from working closely with someone and may not be real. It's been quite a long time since you've have someone that way."

"It has nothing to do with that. She belongs here, on this side." He had to stop himself from repeating her words: _She belongs with me. _"Look, if you're not going to help me-"

"No, Peter. I will. Your happiness and her safety are important to me and I do mean that. I'm just warning you." She hesitated on the line, thinking through this. "And are you sure that it's not her? Maybe she just has a new outlook on life with her new _boyfriend_."

His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, not used to that certain term quite yet. He didn't even know if they could be classified as that. "I'm positive it's their Olivia. If you just talked to her and compared her to the Olivia you know, you'd agree with me." He looked back through the window at Delilah delivering their lunches at his table. "I've got to go. But I'll come over tomorrow to your office with Broyles and we'll make plans to get her back. Agreed?"

She sighed as if there was no other choice. "Agreed. Although I must warn you that crossing dimensions like this is very dangerous for the body. You should know what you're getting into, Mr. Bishop."

"I think I have an idea."


End file.
